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Mr. Coaltar turned.
The world shifted.
His whole appearance was surprising, because part of me had expected him to be middle-aged, but he didn’t appear much older than twenty-two or so. A dirty blond eyebrow arched up. His face was slightly unshaven, but it seemed intentional, making him even more photogenic. His dark blond locks framed his face. His cheeks were slightly sunken under high, defined cheekbones, giving his angled jawline a hardened look. Yet there was a hint of a coy smirk playing on his lips.
And, god forgive me, I paused for a millisecond to admire the view.
“Oh no, not again...” he started to say before he fully turned and even noticed who I was.
And the way he said it made me realize, to my horror, I’d probably just pulled the same stupid stunt dozens of women tried on him, only with the intention of getting into his bed or a hold of his money. Or both. Another stupid girl trick that I’d never used before because I didn’t play that game, so I thought I was being clever.
And then he looked up.
His eyes dead locked on mine.
They were a stunning hazel with flecks of gold around the center. The discontent and boredom slipped away in that moment, quickly replaced with curiosity, as though he had just been presented with a new, interesting puzzle to solve.
And my heart wouldn’t stop racing. I almost forgot to let go of his butt after I’d dropped in the second wallet.
I forced myself to focus and planted a hand right on Mr. Coaltar’s lapel. I wanted to draw attention up. I shook off my initial fear and tried to resume my charade. “Are you okay?” I asked, trying to soften my voice. If he thought I was there to flirt originally, I could at least play into his assumption to distract him.
Mr. Coaltar’s eyes danced as he looked into mine, sparkling with interest. “Sorry, sugar, I didn’t see you.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It was my fault.”
His eyes slid down in slow motion, toward my chest. I arched my back, puffed my breasts out like a pigeon. I didn’t know where Brandon was or how quickly he was walking away. I wanted to protect him.
Part of me was too curious to pull away and disappear. I could see why women were flocking to this man. I tried to resist, not wanting to admit to how attracted I was to him. I wasn’t the type to create a fake interest in someone just because I knew he was wealthy, was I? Was that the only reason?
But Mr. Coaltar’s eyes didn’t stop their slow perusal of my body. He took a step back, getting the full view. It gave me a chance to look at him entirely, too. He was a head and a half taller than me, with broad shoulders under his dark suit coat, a white collared shirt underneath, and a silver tie with a red pin. His suit fit perfectly to his body, and it wasn’t hard to imagine a sculpted body underneath.
“Oh no,” he said, his voice had a deepness, but with a curious Charleston accent - Southern refinement. “I reckon the fault was mine. I’m so sorry. Did I ruin your dress?”
“Oh, this thing? No. Don’t worry about it.” I waved carefully. Now that a minute had gone by, I wanted to make my exit. This was too close. “Now where did he...” I started to say, ready to pretend to find Brandon, the boyfriend.
“No, please, sugar. Don’t run off,” he said. His hand loosely cuffed around my wrist. “Let me at least apologize properly.”
“You don’t really have to.”
“As your host, I insist.” He bowed his head. “Forgive me. How can I make it up to you?”
“Host?” I asked, not meaning to ask the question. The formality just struck me off guard. Or he did. I felt he didn’t want to release me at all.
“This is my party,” he said. His lips cracked open into a sly smile. “Didn’t you know whose house you were walking in to?”
I glanced from side to side, wishing I had known more about what we were doing, or who I was up against. Maybe Marc had told me when I wasn’t paying attention. “Oh, yes,” I said. “You’re ... Mr. Coaltar.”
“So you have heard of me?”
“Your name,” I said. “My, uh, boyfriend brought me.”
His eyebrow lifted again. “Who?”
“Brandon.”
“Brandon who?”
My lips parted except I didn’t know what his last name was, and I wasn’t sure if I should lie. If I said the wrong name, and he didn’t know him, would he think I was lying and throw me out?
Mr. Coaltar’s smile broadened. “Is it too personal a question, sweetie?” His tone suggested maybe he knew I lied and I didn’t have a boyfriend and he was hoping that was true.
Run away. Run away. Run away!
“No, I mean, it’s not that,” I said. I inched my body around, angling as if I had to go. “I should probably find him.”
He released my wrist but stepped around to block me as I tried to escape. “Of course, if you did say his name, I probably won’t remember. I hate to say it, but I’m hardly ever at home. Half the people here I can’t remember their first name sometimes. I’m over in Europe way too long these days.”
I glanced around, looking to see who he might have been talking to before now. The others had completely vanished. We were on the outer edge of the partygoers. How was I supposed to get away?
Something struck me about what he’d said. It wasn’t what he was telling me, it was how he was saying it. There was a way he held himself, the deep tan that seemed to drop down below the collar of his shirt. “Did you say you go to Europe a lot? Is that for business?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but giving a
question that I expected him to answer no to. This playboy? Would he laugh at the suggestion of work?
He tilted his head in a way that suggested he was surprised at the question. “I go when I can. The most recent trip lasted maybe a month, but felt like a lifetime. I don’t like to think of it as just for business. Most of my research requires my being in different locations. If I have the choice, I try to at least go to pleasant places.”
I squinted at him. Did the guys even talk to him? Maybe I could get out the information they really wanted. That would show them I could do more than steal a wallet. Not that I should need to impress them, but it was an amusing thought. I wanted to grin but smothered that instinct. “What sort of research?” I asked, pushing him to talk a little more.
He paused and his eyes narrowed, suspiciously dancing back and forth with mine again, searching for something. “Oh, you can’t fool me. You don’t want to know about that. Girls like you don’t really want to talk about science. You just want to know how big my yacht is."
I swallowed back the urge to huff indignantly. “I like science.”
He sliced his hand through the air. “Bless your heart for entertaining the idea,” he said dismissively.
“I was recently doing a study on bioluminescence,” I lied. “About the chemical reaction within animals.”
“Oh?” He perked up, his shoulders straightening. His eyes brightened with honest interest.
“My current one is on the reaction of Sea Sparkle as a defensive response.” I faked a blush. “I mean, I know it’s probably silly and unimportant research.”
“If you really want to do some helpful studies, you should consider forensic research. I did something similar with chemiluminescence a couple years ago.”
“Really?” I asked, widening my eyes for extra emphasis. Movement distracted me from the corner of my eye. Brandon stood a distance behind Mr. Coaltar and signaled, asking me if I needed help. I cut off his distractive motioning with a slight wave of my hand. Not that I wanted to jabber on, but I had a feeling. I refocused on Mr. Coaltar. “That’s the chemical reaction, right? The stuff they put in glow sticks?”
